Harry Potter Eleven AM

AN: This is bound to be sad. Most of my Incubus songfics tend towards melancholy.

Disclaimer: Same old.

Written for: _Twelve pm and my dusty telephone rings... you know who you are._

**Eleven A.M.******

_Seven a.m.,___

_The garbage truck beeps as it backs up_

            He stood at the window, his hand holding back the silk curtains. The sun had come up an hour ago, but the world around him was just beginning to wake. His hand slid down his bare chest, his eyes closed. 

_and__ I start my day thinking about what I've thrown away._

            He could hear her voice in his head, asking him to please close those curtains and come back to bed, Draco. He sighed, a whisper of breath full of longing and emptiness.

            "Come back to _me, Hermione."_

            And he went back to bed, the curtains falling close behind him, blocking out the birdsong and the sunshine. He didn't feel like facing them yet.

_Could I push rewind?_

_The credits traverse signifying the end but I missed the best part._

            His heart was empty now. The clothes strewn on the floor around his bed were all his. The scent of female perfume that once lingered around his bathroom door was now gone, and the pink toothbrush she always kept there was gone as well.

            It was over, the relationship was gone, and he should be mending by now.

            But he was not. He was still there, sitting at the edge of his bed with his head in his hands, wondering how he could have let it all fly by just like that. 

_Could we please go back to start?___

            He couldn't remember it. He couldn't remember anything. And that, on top of the empty loneliness filling the room, was enough to make him want to cry.

            He wanted it all back. He wanted to start over, and he promised himself that he would savor it all. He wanted her back. And Draco Malfoy was used to having his way.

_Forgive my indecision._

            But not this time. 

            She was gone, he had let her slip through his fingers, and there was no way to get her back. 

            He closed his eyes against the pain. "Hermione." he whispered to a girl long gone. "Come back, please. Let's start over, and this time, I won't let you go. I won't throw you away."

_Then again, you're always first when no one's on your side._

_But then again, a day will come when I want off that ride._

            Someday, he would heal. Someday, this emptiness would fade away, and he'd learn to love again. Someday, he'll find someone else, and someday, he'll learn just how precious love could be.

_Eleven a.m.,___

_By now, you would think that I would be up_

            He rolled over, one narrow grey eye looking at the clock beside his bed. Noon. He threw his arm over his eye and drew the sheets up. Normally, he would be awake by now.

            Normally, she would be up as well, making him lunch, and he would be with her in the kitchen, nuzzling her from behind as she nonchalantly asked him to pass the salt and such.

            Normally, he would be happy.

_But my bed sheets shade the heat of choices I've made._

            But things weren't normal now, and he was alone, and he was regretting everything he had ever done. 

            The bed sheets were tangled around him, signifying the restless sleep that gripped him these past weeks, and they were unchanged, showing that here was a man who needed a woman's hand to guide him. And more importantly, there was no one on the bed sheets but him, and that was enough to speak about the status of his love life.

            Empty.

_And what did I find?_

_I never thought I could want someone so much_

_'cause now you're not here and I'm knee deep in that old fear._

            He missed her so much. And he wanted it all back. It was gone, spirited away on the wings of time and change and difference and difficulty. The relationship was over, crushed under political pride and social gossip. The love had faded, wiped away by a new love, a love that grown between Hermione and

            "Potter." Draco whispered, too weak to summon any venom, any malice.

            He, too, had faded away.

_Forgive my indecision_

_I am only a man_

            After all, Draco was but human. 

            With human dreams, hopes and wishes, with human pains and sufferings. With human mistakes and regrets. With human fears, foolishness and loves. But his dreams were gone now, along with his woman. His pain had taken over, leaving room for almost nothing else. His regret was eating him from inside out, and he was finding it harder and harder to cope with the guilt that swept him away every morning. 

            His fears had come true, and his foolishness had won over his love. 

            Such was human nature.

_Then again, you're always first when no one's on your side._

_But then again, a day will come when I want off that ride._

            "Will I ever tire of this?" he asked the empty room, his monologue drawn out unwitnessed. The walls were silent, though they once held laughter and whispered secrets and confessions of passionate love. To Draco, as he lay on the bed, the silence was deafening.

_Twelve pm and my dusty telephone rings._

            Night had fallen. The wind was cold outside, yet he didn't move to close the window, in the hope that an owl might come for him. His head was pillowed on one frail arm, his eyes half-closed, searching for sleep that, like almost everything else, eluded him.

            And his fireplace began to spark, with sparse green flames leaping up at him.

            He looked up. Someone wanted to talk to him.

            Someone.

_Heavy head up from my pillow_

_Who could it be?_

            His heart began to pound with a hope renewed. Maybe it was her.

            Maybe it could all come back after all. He scrambled out of bed, clad only in his boxers, and he knelt by the fire, thinking of how he could start all over again, how he would fall in love over and over and over again, and how he would savor it all.

            Savor it. So that when it's gone, maybe the pain of forgetting won't be so bad. 

            Savor it. The secret kisses and the way she held your hand. The way her smile was like the sunrise to you. The hesitant way she would kiss you on the cheek, and the way her eyes were always half-closed after love-making. 

            Savor it. The warmth of her body against yours and the way she would whisper your name over and over again. The way she would kiss you awake and the way she would kiss you goodnight. The way her cheeks flushed red, and the way her hair fell over her face.

            Savor it all. And never, never let it go.

            He knelt by the fireplace and the bright green flames reflected off his face, pale, but filled with a hope such as there never was before.

_I hope it's you_


End file.

Harry Potter, Angst, Drama